


Are We Really Enemies?

by Cake53 (orphan_account)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Blood, Drama, Guilt, Hurt, M/M, Major Character Injury, Relationship Advice, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cake53
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shizuo wants to kill Izaya. At least that's what he thinks. What happens when things get a little out of hand? What will Shizuo do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are We Really Enemies?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emmal1366](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=emmal1366).



“I know you really hate him, but his injuries just keep getting worse and worse. One day if you’re not careful you could break him.” Shinra says softly, treating my wounds.

“I want to break him! I hate him! I want to kill him so badly! He should just die!” I scream angrily, my shouts bouncing pointlessly off the rooms. Shinra goes quiet, dabbing at my leg.

“If you really hated him you wouldn’t go looking for him around town. I think that it’s more than that-” Shinra explains. I swiftly punch him in the gut, anger flaring out uncontrollably. He groans painfully, rubbing his stomach.

“I definitely do not like that flea!” I say firmly, averting my gaze from the doctor. “I hate him more than anything in the world.” I glare at Shinra as he sits up again, chuckling to himself.

“Just hear me out. If you really hated him, why do you always complain about him, huh? If you really hated him you wouldn’t want to speak about him. You wouldn’t want to see him much less fight him. Most enemies try to avoid each other at all costs and yet you go looking for him.”

An angry twitch rises in my eyebrow as I listen to his sensible words. I don’t deny anything he points out, hoping to make him stop lecturing me. “Yes, but I do not like him!”

He smirks at me stupidly. “You don't ‘ _like_ ’ him, you love him.” At this statement I find my hand wrapped tightly around his neck, a growl of rumbling in my throat.

“I dare you to say that again.” I hiss angrily, glaring at Shinra. My grip tightens before I let go, watching him cough and gasp for air.

He looks up at me once again, serious. “You love him.” He says firmly and I am taken aback. “You, Heiwajima Shizuo, are in love with Orihara Izaya.” My eyes widen at his words, my hands shaking intensely. I grip them tightly into fists, trying not to break anything in the room.

“I am not in love with that manipulative bastard!” I shout loudly, causing Celty to peek her head around nervously. Shinra just raises an eyebrow at me with contempt.

“But I’m afraid you _are_ in love with that manipulative bastard.” He answers. “Just let me ask you: How do you feel when you are around him?” I narrow my eyes at the man, making a tsk of annoyance. A slight pain erupts from my hands as I realize my grip is so tight that my hands have begun to  bleed. “Just answer the question.” I roll my eyes, folding my arms firmly across my chest.

“Like I could send him flying through the roof. I hate him so much that I could murder him and his family in an instant.” I explain with venom in my voice. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Shinra just smiles, gesturing for me to leave.

“You wouldn’t murder Mairu or Kururi. If you don’t want to accept it that’s fine, but I gotta do stuff so I’ll see you later.” I roll my eyes, standing up from the couch and heading toward the door. I take a cigarette from the pack and shove it into my mouth, filled with rage. As I step outside, a strange scent mixes with the air. All of my anger and hatred hits me in waves as I look around for my nemesis.

“IZ-A-YA!” I call, searching for the informant. I spot the black figure standing atop the skyline, his body silhouetted against the sunset. Filled with rage, I don’t comprehend how beautiful he looks. His coat swishes gently in the wind, his black hair being ruffled. An image I would long regret. His crimson eyes slowly turn to meet my icy cold gaze. A smirk spreads across his face as he realizes who I am.

“Ah, Shizu-chan! It’s nice to see you~! How have you been~?” I instantly grab the nearest pole, a stop sign and fling it up toward the informant. He skillfully jumps, vaulting over the pole with a swift movement. He lands quietly in front of me, a evil grin plastered on his face. Not one that doesn’t look ugly, but one that makes him look attractive. His crimson-brown eyes almost glow in the darkness of the night, but I ignore the weird feeling in my stomach.

“Get out of Ikebukuro!” I shout angrily at him, lifting up a nearby vending machine. I pick it up over my head, aiming it at Izaya’s head. As soon as I am about to throw it, I can see a strange look glaze over his eyes. Fear. In that instant, I chuck the heavy object, my throw off target. I watch it fly a little left of his face and ram into a nearby building. My eyes widen in realisation as I see that the rubble's trajectory is right where he is standing. Izaya doesn’t realize this and keeps running in his original path. “F-flea! Move!” I shout, but to no avail.

Izaya makes a tiny squeak of confusion and terror and tries to scramble out of the way. I lunge forward toward the falling object, but I’m too far away. The next moments happen in slow motion. The window falls to the ground, catching the left side of the raven’s body. “IZAYA!” I scream in desperation, in loss of words. Instead of my usual shout of anger, this one is filled with remorse and disbelief. I sprint forward toward the limp body. _What am I doing? I have always wanted to kill him, but- He just looks so helpless._ I quickly shove the pole off of his arm, protectively wrapping myself over him. He winces and groans in pain, clutching at his side with his good arm. Blood is splattered all over the concrete, but I’m just happy that he is still alive. _He could have died. I’m so relieved._ Suddenly Shinra’s words become clear. _‘I know you really hate him, but his injuries just keep getting worse and worse. One day if you’re not careful you could break him.’_ In that moment I decided to make a promise to myself. _Never become a cold blooded murderer._ I quietly pick up the flea’s body despite his complaints, carrying him toward Shinra.

“My arm! Damn you! Ugh, put me DOWN! Don’t fucking touch me!” He begins to scream, thrashing around in my grip. A strange pain tugs at my heart as I hear him say this, but I only hold him tighter. He squeals in pain, but I don’t lessen my grip in case he tries to break free. His punches become weaker, less forceful and I glance down at the informant, worried. He blinks groggily and sways deliriously before he finally slumps quietly in my arms, passed out.

The walk to Shinra’s was quiet as the smaller man I held in my arms stayed out cold. I glance down at the innocent bundle. He just looks so…delicate… I shake my head intensely, trying to rid of the thoughts. There are many confused and horrified glances from passersby as they examine the notorious informant trapped in my arms. I restrain the urge to drop the body, guilt and sadness flooding my inside. Why would you stoop so low? I growl to myself, admitting my thoughts are more sensible and pick up the pace to Shinra’s apartment.

~

I glance down at the limp body in my arms and can't help but notice how....cute... _NO! No way in hell is he cute! Yet, he looks so fragile, so.......beautiful._ Without noticing, I gently lean down to brush the hairs out of his eyes. His skin is soft, almost like velvet. I mentally slap myself in horror of my actions, but then I remember that I am carrying something. A soft voice shakes me out of my thoughts.

"Sh-an. Shi-chan. S-shizu-chan." I can feel my face turn a deep shade of red as the informant mumbles my name, but my embarrassment is cut short as cold, crimson eyes open tiredly. For a moment, the only thing displayed in those eyes in the fogginess of sleep, then they snap back to reality. "Let me GO! DON'T TOUCH ME!" The harsh words spill out of his mouth as he tries to scramble from my grasp. He winces and gasps as his injuries become apparent to him once more, his adrenaline failing him. I can't help but feel a little hurt as the words ring sadly off the empty streets.

I subconsciously tighten my grasp on the wriggling body, not wanting his warmth to disappear. He squirms around, screaming and thrashing wounding words about. The same words he spits out confidently in the day. "Get AWAY from me, YOU MONSTER!" The last two words ring hollowly through my body. _Monster. It's the truth._ I glare evenly at the informant, and instantly the man quiets down. Instead of rage pulsing through my veins, intense sadness takes its place.

The fact that something so precious...so delicate calls me such a thing....it's awful. No. It's disgusting, horrible, terrible, dreadful, ghastly, nasty, vile, foul, revolting, repulsive, repugnant, odious, sickening, nauseating. It eats away at one's feelings, their very being. All of the feelings of hatred are instantly gone, replaced by intense grief. Izaya's face morphs at my change in expression. "Sh-shizuo?" The crimson orbs shake slightly as the man reaches a hand toward my face. Not realizing why such an action is being performed, I wipe at my cheeks. Sure enough, tears are falling evenly down my cheeks. I scoff, rubbing furiously at my face.

"Ugh. N-no way. There's no way YOU can make me cry." I deny, and yet the informant had. I was CRYING in front of my sworn enemy. What was I feeling? I wasn't feeling hate toward the helpless bundle in my arms. "Dammit." I curse softly, pulling the warm body of Orihara Izaya toward my own. A weird feeling burst through my lips and my eyes widen as Izaya presses his vanilla-flavoured lips against my own. Instead of being annoyed or angry like I thought I would, I melt into the sign of affection happily. A creepy smile spreads across my cheeks as I press on, more passionately. At that moment, nothing else mattered. I could've been shot in the head and it wouldn't have mattered. I had what I wanted. No, _needed_. As cheesy as that sounds, I enjoyed every moment of the vanilla flavour tainting my own lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Love you all! You can leave comments and critique below, It'd be greatly appreciated! Oh and sorry about the quick ending....I wanted to finish it...anyway THANK YOU!!


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